Chapter III.

The new settlement of Holmwood made a very good start. Major Parry's first care was to get his family and servants comfortably housed, and next to lay out ground for a kitchen-garden. With a little care page 29 and labour a great variety of vegetables are to be produced, and the major knew that they would be very necessary for preserving the health of his party. Although there were some open spaces of good land, most of the best land on the farm was wooded. Before the crops could be put into the ground, the wood had to be cleared off. There was a thick under-growth which had first to be cut away. The trees had then to be brought down, the smaller ones were attacked with the American axe, the larger ones with a cross-cut saw. The largest hard-grained trees were, however, allowed to stand, as the labour of cutting them down is very great. The trees that had been felled were, after remaining some time to dry, dragged together, and piled up over the brushwood, to which fire was then put, much in the American fashion. The fires were generally made near the tall trees left standing, that the flames might catch hold of the boughs and burn them off. The blackened stumps did not look picturesque, but the dead trees were not injurious to any crops underneath, and could be brought down as wanted, for railings or for building purposes. A part of the property consisted of open or fern land, which required much less labour to clear, but which the major understood was not likely to be so productive as the bush land on which he had commenced operations. He however soon found that the labour of clearing was very great; and having cleared five acres, which gave timber enough for his own cottage, and for that of his servants, and for all the outbuildings and railings, he cleared the page 30 same quantity of fern land. He calculated that it cost him from between two and three pounds to clear an acre of the fern land, and upwards of five pounds to get the seed into an acre of bush land. It must be remembered that New Zealand is on the other side of the globe to England and that when it is summer in England it is winter there

The timber was cut down in January, and burnt off in March. The wheat was sown at the end of July, there was every reason to expect a heavy crop in January, that is the harvest season.

On the fern lands, the ferns grow from six to eight feet high, intermixed with a small bush called “tuke.” On the surface there is a vegetable mould of seven to ten inches deep, matted together by the fern roots, with a light yellow loamy subsoil of many feet in depth, entirely free from stones, shells, gravel, or clay. When this land is broken up and got into order, the soil becomes light and powdered. It is ever afterwards so easily cultivated that a pair of oxen can plough an acre a day. There is an objection, however, to fresh fern lands, as from want of ammonia or some other ingredient, there is what is called sourness in the soil, which causes the crops to be very poor. When, however, the same ground has been allowed to remain fallow for six months, it will often produce three times as heavy a crop. To prepare fern land it is necessary to choose dry weather, when a gentle breeze is blowing, and to fire the fern. The thick, matted, dead stuff at the bottom, with the leafy part of the fern, is first consumed, page 31 leaving only the shrivels of “tuke;” and the cane-like fern stalks, which being softened by the fire, should be cut down at once with a hook or a short scythe, while a billhook must be used on the tuke stumps. After this the land is ploughed with a strong plough by four oxen, and then harrowed; and then the fern-root is raked up to be burned.

The Major had brought with him a flock of a hundred sheep; it was but a small beginning, and would not have answered if he had had to hire a shepherd; but Henry and David were able to look after them entirely with occasional help from Peter, and even little Fred was of use. There are no wild animals to hurt sheep as in most other countries, and as the climate and herbage suits them, they are sure to do well.

There were five cows and a bull, two yoke of working oxen, three horses, two sows, and a boar, besides ducks, fowl, geese, turkeys, and rabbits. This was a large stock to begin with, and it cost a good deal of trouble to keep these creatures within bounds, though they had not much difficulty in picking up food for themselves. The bush-land afforded plenty of feed for the cows and oxen, and the pigs grubbed up roots, while the fowls picked up seeds and found plenty of worms in the newly turned-up earth.

Major Parry soon found that all the fruits and vegetables which grow in England flourish in New Zealand, even in greater perfection, provided care is bestowed on their cultivation; indeed he had as yet no cause to regret having chosen the colony as his home.

The care of the native girl occupied a good deal of Mrs. Parry time. Still she did not grudge it, as she had the satisfaction of seeing her charge gradually getting over the disease. If a family with small means in a new colony wishes to succeed, every member of it must work; and Mrs. Parry, anxious to set a good example to her children and to her servants, was in the habit of working harder than anybody. At last Yeda was out of danger; but it was still necessary that she should take great care not to catch cold, which she was very likely to do if she returned home before she had completely recovered. Emily, too, was anxious to have her stay longer with them. A warm friendship had sprung up between the two girls. It was difficult to say which loved the other the most. Yeda admired her English friend for her superior knowledge, her gentleness, her beauty, while Emily was interested in the native girl whose signs of gratitude and affection could not be mistaken. Emily found also that although not altogether ignorant of Christianity, she did not understand its truths, and she was therefore most anxious to instruct her in them. Yeda already knew a little English, and every day learned more and more; and thus as she improved in her knowledge of the language, the better able she was to understand the instruction given to her by Emily. Twice her father came to fetch her away, and each time Emily entreated that she might remain; so she was allowed to stay on. As soon as she was well enough to go out of the house, she showed that she page 33 was anxious to make herself useful. Among other things she managed the oven far better than the settlers had been able to manage it. She showed Emily also how to make the native cloth and baskets, and was equally ready to milk the cows, or to churn, or to sweep out the house.

On one of the visits the chief, Toi Korro, paid to Holmwood, Major Parry had applied to him for some of his people to assist in clearing the land. He sent six fine young fellows, who, with their axes, did a fair amount of work. Their nominal pay was low, but as they had to be fed, and ate largely, their labour cost nearly as much as that of Englishmen would have done. Still, as they were sober and steady, the major was very glad to get them.

One day, the chief arrived, showing by his manner and the expression of his countenance that some matter of consequence weighed greatly on his mind. What it was he would not say, but he insisted that his daughter must no longer remain away from home; and the men having performed their task for for which they had been sent, must also return.

Major Parry inquired the reason of this.

The chief looked grave and vexed, and said that it must be so. Yeda shed many tears when she heard that she must return to the pah. Her father would give her no reason, but that it must be so. She was now well able to perform the journey on foot, and no litter was required; but one of her father's attendants was told to carry the presents of clothing and other articles which she had received. page 34 Emily herself was quite moved when her friend was on the point of going. She made Yeda promise to come again as soon as she could obtain her father's leave. The native girl indeed showed by every means in her power, that she was grateful for the kindness lavished on her. Nothing particular occurred on the farm for some days after the departure of the natives. The major felt the loss of the services of the natives very much, and he was unable to get as much ground cleared as he had hoped.

At length a dray, which he had sent for flour and other provisions and necessaries, returned, and brought a number of letters. As he sat reading them at supper, his wife and daughter saw his countenance change.

“Is there bad news?” they asked, “if there is, do not keep it from us.”

“It is simply news to make me anxious,” answered Major Parry. “The natives in the centre of the island have again risen against the English. They, as before, declare that certain lands claimed by settlers were not sold to them, or if sold, were not paid for, or that those who sold them had no right to do so. To maintain what they consider their rights, they have set up a chief who claims to be king of the whole island, or of all New Zealand, though at no time have the tribes ever been united under one king. They announce that it is their intention to drive the English into the sea, and have already murdered several people, and some of our troops sent against them, have lost several men, page 35 and been compelled to retire. It is feared that the insurrection will spread to other parts.

“I find, by a dispatch from the governor, that I am appointed a magistrate for this district, and am directed to use every influence I may possess with the natives to induce them to remain faithful to the Government, and to promise rewards to those who assist in putting down the rebellion. A proclamation has been sent me, which I must try and get distributed among them. I will first see our friend, Toi Korro, I am sure that he is personally attached to the English. To-morrow morning I will set out and secure him if I can.”

The ladies naturally became very anxious on hearing this news. They were in a very exposed situation, and should any of the neighbouring tribes lay claim to the land they held, they might be attacked and driven out, and perhaps murdered, as other settlers had been at different times.

The major's preparations for his journey were soon made. Harry begged that he might go, and Mrs. Parry entreated that the major would take Allan and Tim with him as a body-guard. It was considered too, that they would have a good deal of influence with the natives who had been working under them. The major and his followers filled their knapsacks with goods as presents to them, and to the neighbouring tribes whom he proposed visiting.

The travellers pushed on as fast as they could go, like old soldiers, keeping a good look out on either side.

“Yon understand, Tim, this is the mode of advancing into an enemy's country. We feel our way with scouts ahead and on either flank,” observed Allan when they halted for a short time to drink at a bright stream which bubbled out of a rock. “To be sure our party is not quite numerous enough for that, so we have to make our right eyes to do duty on one flank, and our left on the other, while we turn them one after the other ahead. Hark! What noise is that? I thought that I heard some one moving.”

“So did I, and I'll have him dead or alive,” exclaimed Tim, and before Allan could call him back, he had sprung off into the wood.

“It's against all military rule to pursue an enemy without orders,” cried Allan. The major and Harry, who had gone a little distance on, hearing his voice, returned. At that moment a shot was heard. Fearing that Tim might have been attacked, they were compelled to hurry to his assistance. They thought that they must have passed him, but still they heard his voice ahead. Then another shot. At length they caught sight of him between the trees, capering about in the most extraordinary way.

“Hurroo!” he shouted, “I've done for him any how. The ugly baste, to make a hole in my new pantaloons, in which I am going to appear before Mr. Korry and the ladies of his family.”

When they got up to Tim, they found that he had been pursuing a wild boar, the descendant of some runaway sow, who had at length turned on him. page 37 He had had a very narrow escape, but fortunately having a bayonet at his side to fix to his rifle, he had driven it into the animal's body.

“There'll be some fine eating out of him, anyhow,” exclaimed Tim, giving a glance at his fallen foe. “But he was nearly giving me an ugly pronger with those big teeth of his.”

The major told him that he might have risked his own life and the lives of the rest by running off without leave, but that he would overlook his fault if he would carry the boar to the pah as a present.

Tim replied that he should not mind carrying the hind-quarters, but that to carry the whole animal was beyond his power. To this the major agreed, and the animal being cut up, while the rest of the carcase was hung up on a tree, Tim marched off with the two legs sticking out on either side of his neck in front of him, rather proud than otherwise of this trophy of his prowess as a huntsman. Half an hour after this they reached the foot of Toi Korro's pah. A thin wreath of smoke ascended from the top, but there was no other sign of its being inhabited. Knowing their way, they climbed up the path and entered the narrow gateway, which was left unguarded. The second gate was reached, and on entering the centre part, they soon found that the pah was not empty by the barking of a dozen dogs who rushed out at them. Under the shade of the chief's hut a number of men were seated, evidently engaged in some important discussion. On seeing the strangers they rose, and Toi Korro, who was among them, page 38 advanced towards the entrance. He put out his hand and warmly shook that of the major, the other Englishman receiving the same salutation from the

The Major's Interview with the Natives.

page 39 chief and all his followers. Major Parry then told the natives that he had heard that certain of their countrymen had risen against the authority of Queen Victoria, after they had sworn to obey her and to be her faithful subjects; that they had killed some English people, their fellow-subjects; and that one of their chiefs even pretended to be king over the whole country.

He added, “Now I know that you Maories are sensible people, and it is only necessary for you to know the truth to act wisely. Can any of you number the tall trees which grow in your native forests? Far more numerous are the fighting men who serve the Queen of England. Can any of you remove you large rock from its place? As well try to turn the people of England from their purpose as to attempt to move yonder rock. Now the people of England believe that the Maories placed themselves under the government of their queen, and also sold to her ministers certain broad lands. They are therefore resolved that the Maories shall obey their queen, and also that they will not give up those lands. Now, if the Maories will not obey the English laws, and will attempt to get back those lands by force, not two thousand fighting men only, but ten thousand or twenty thousand will be sent over, to bring them into subjection; or if that should not be enough, another ten thousand will come over. But it is folly to talk thus. As soon as the English soldiers learn the way the Maories have of fighting, and the nature of their country, one thousand men will be sufficient to page 40 follow them into all their haunts and strongholds, till not a Maori remains who does not recognise the Queen of England as his queen. You are, however, is I said, sensible people, and will at once see that it is to your interest to remain on friendly terms with the English settlers, and to obey the same laws that they obey. In one case you will enjoy peace and prosperity; if you go to war with them, your destruction will be inevitable.”

This speech, which was much longer in the native language, was received in profound silence. It was easy to see that it produced a great effect on the tribe; but, according to custom, the chief did not reply to it at once. The visitors were requested to seat themselves in the chief's verandah, while he and his aged men retired to hold a consultation. No sooner were they seated than Yeda came out of the house. Tears were in her eyes, though she expressed her pleasure at seeing her friends, and inquired, in her artless way, after Emily and Mrs. Parry and Nurse Perkins and Jane. She said that she was very much afraid for their safety, and very sorry that her countrymen were so wicked and foolish as to wish to fight against them. She promised that if any attack was to be made on Holmwood, she would give them notice, and that for their sakes she was informing herself of all the Maories proposed doing.

In a short time Toi Korro returned. For his part, he had no hesitation about remaining on friendly terms with the English. He had, however, been threatened by certain powerful chiefs, that if he did, page 41 he should be considered as an enemy to the Maories, and that he, his pah, and all his tribe should be destroyed. Notwithstanding these threats he had resolved to remain at peace and in alliance with the English. Major Parry warmly congratulated him on his determination, and promised him that he should not be the loser in the end.

Tim had at first presented his gift of wild boar's flesh, which was by this time cooked, and contributed towards the feast prepared in the usual style in front of the chief's house. Major Parry hurried over the ceremony, as he was anxious to visit other chiefs, to induce them to remain faithful to the English. Toi Korro volunteered to accompany him; indeed he said that the lives of the Englishmen were not safe if they travelled alone. The major gladly accepted his offer. The journey was to last several days, and as it was evident that there must be a considerable amount of danger attending it, the major insisted on Harry's remaining at the pah till his return. Though Yeda promised to look after him, Harry was very far from satisfied with the arrangement.